


A Study in Scotch

by Liketoolegittoquit



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Drinking, Gen, fanfiction: dana1313, lotsa feels, queenly stress, tumblr: fallenhearts13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 08:50:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1339384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liketoolegittoquit/pseuds/Liketoolegittoquit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elsa gets a little drunk, and Anna picks up the pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Scotch

Her father had had a decanter of very old scotch.   
It sat on a small dry bar in his study- a set of four intricate brandy glasses kept it and a few bottles of whiskey and akavit company.   
He hadn’t been a drinking man, but occasionally the weight of his kingdom, his daughter’s secret, the rift he had caused- occasionally it was too much to allow sleep to come. Elsa was far more understanding of her father’s nightcap, now that she was faced with pressures of her own.   
She closed the doors to his- _her_ \- study, but didn’t bother latching them.   
It was late enough that even the oil lamps in the halls had been extinguished. She lit the small desk lamp, the brief heat from the match uncomfortable against her fingers. Sitting in the large, leather backed chair, she ran her hands over her face, a mixture of exhaustion and stress caused them to linger for just a touch longer than necessary.   
Her eyes flickered to the bar cart.   
Sometimes her father would allow her to take lessons in here- once a month he would sit her down, under the cover of darkness, and teach her the finer points of kingship- diplomacy, not by a teacher and his book, but by life lessons learnt the hard way.   
He had lost his father young, too.   
The room still smelt of him, even after three years- books and pipe tobacco and that damnable scotch.   
She glanced at it again.   
There was no shame in it, she thought, no shame in needing a little help to get some rest- to declutter her mind a bit- to allow some respite.   
She stood.   
Her father had told her that the bottle had been a gift from the kingdom of Dunbroch- a small kingdom in the plains and marshes and mountains of Scotland. He had said this was from the king’s private reserve.   
  
She lifted the stopper.   
She must have watched her father preform this same motion a hundred times, a deep tiredness in his eyes and shoulders and bearing. She idly wondered if that’s what she looked like tonight, as well. She poured some in a glass, far more than she had meant to, but deftly chilled it; frost creeping up the slides of the snifter- she had always seen her father add ice.   
She nearly spat the first sip out- it’s sentimental value (and, she reminded herself as she forced it down, its financial value) keeping her from doing so. Her second sip went a little smoother- she was able to pick some of the flavors from it, despite it burning her throat and eyes. The third was almost pleasant- she poured a little more and brought the crystal decanter and the glass with her to the desk.   
She sat heavily in the chair.   
  
Wesselton was sending threatening letters- not of war, but of the suffering that would be caused by losing such a prominent trade partner- and as much as she hated to admit it, they were right. Wesselton was located a little south but significantly west- they, along with the Southern Isles and Corona, provided Arendelle with warm weather crops, as well as items that could only be gotten through trade with kingdoms much further south than Arendelle could feasibly work with. Thankfully, the Southern Isles didn’t want to terminate their trade agreement- at least not yet- but she knew she’d be speaking to a dignitary of theirs sooner or later.   
She took another long sip, swirling the amber liquid in the glass to cool it again, then finished off what was left.   
She poured another.   
Her father wouldn’t miss it, the scotch or the room.   
He wouldn’t miss it, so she might as well enjoy it.   
  
Somehow she didn’t feel less stressed.   
Maybe she was doing it wrong, or maybe she hadn’t had enough, because the pressures from the past month were still closing in on her. She only ever remembered her father having a glass here or there, but her mind was still spiraling.   
She downed what was in the cup in a smooth motion that looked nicer than it felt and leant back into his chair-  _her_ chair- eyes closed. She could feel the exhaustion from earlier rise up, and she decided she’d sleep just as well at the desk as she would in her bed.   
The door creaked.   
“Elsa?”   
Her eyes flew open, startled, blue meeting blue. “Anna.”   
“What are you doing in here so late?”   
Elsa shook her head, not trusting her tongue, which suddenly felt heavy and sluggish. Even that motion, however, felt strange. Anna crossed the room, bare feet on carpet nearly silent, and glanced at the decanter, the glass, the glazed look in her sister’s eyes.   
  
It seemed Elsa had found the alcohol.   
  
She sat in the chair across from the desk, an eyebrow raised in amusement and worry, “You know, you may have overestimated your tolerance. You hardly drink wine, and you weigh less than I do. How many glasses have you had?”   
She got that little crease she always got when thinking of a problem, and mumbled “Two? Maybe three?” Anna sighed, stood and removed the offending liquid from the desk and back onto the cart.  
“So what brought this on? It’s not like you to drink all alone in the dark.”   
Elsa sighed softly, leaning back even further, her face to the ceiling. Anna’s steady gaze never wavered.   
She waited.   
“I’d say,” Elsa started, hesitatingly, “that it’s exactly like me. Wouldn’t you agree?”   
Anna had nothing to say to this, and Elsa closed her eyes, another sigh escaping her lips. The floor creaked, muffled through the carpet, as Anna moved.   
“It doesn’t have to be, you know.”   
The voice came directly from her left, between her and the window and the scotch.   
“Father would do the same. He would have lessons with me while nursing his glass, and by the end of the night, he seemed lighter. I guess I was hoping it would do the same for me.”   
“Elsa,” Anna paused, collecting her thoughts before continuing, “Elsa, it wasn’t the scotch that made him lighter- it was you.” She placed a warm hand on her sister’s cheek, too afraid to hug her, trembling as she was. Elsa leaned into it, the unfamiliarity of the warmth and touch calling to her core.    
“I don’t believe that’s true, Anna. I caused so many problems for everyone- him, mother, you. I don’t know how it could have possibly been me that made him happy. Not after the burden I had been- still am.”   
“Would you open your eyes and look at me?”   
Elsa complied, eyebrows furrowed as she tried to focus her gaze.   
Anna was right; she had severely overestimated her tolerance.   
“Elsa, I assure you, you’re the reason he was able to smile. We both were. For all our troubles, they loved us both.”   
“You never gave them reason to fear you, Anna. To-..”   
“Stop this.” Anna’s voice was firm, and Elsa found herself quieting, the floor suddenly seemed very interesting, “Stop this, Elsa; this conversation will go around in circles for the rest of our lives if we let it. I can’t convince you that you aren’t a monster- only you can do that. But I can do what our parents did all those years- I can be there and love you and hold you through the storm. And if my strength gives you yours back, then I’d say I did my job as a sister, wouldn’t you?”   
Elsa choked back tears, a light snow falling behind her, dusting the shelves with a fine powder.   
  
“Our parents weren’t always there for me, Anna. It’s my own fault, truly- I had started pushing them away- but maybe they finally saw who I am..”   
“What do you mean, who you are? You’re Elsa, crowned queen of Arendelle, my sister who cared so much about me that she sequestered herself for thirteen years.” She ran a hand through her sister’s hair, pushing it back so they could touch, forehead to forehead, “you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever known. What do you mean, saw who you are?”   
“Anna…” her tears were flowing freely now, not frozen, but warm, so very warm that she thought they’d burn tracks down her face, scalding and blistering and red, “Anna, what if I caused the storm?”   
Anna’s breath hitched, certain her heart had almost stopped.   
“Is that what you’ve thought, for all these years?”   
Elsa didn’t nod, didn’t speak- the only noise in the room the strangled sounds she made as she tried to hold her tears back and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner- she took another shuddering breath and remained still, as if she could fade into the background and vanish if she tried hard enough.   
The snow was piling up, but a glance out the window told Anna that it was localized to the room. Frost trailed across the desk, spiraling in vectors over the papers and books that covered it. The lamp flickered but stayed lit.   
  
“Elsa, they left in March- they knew there was a chance of storms. They had hoped that the weather would hold, and it didn’t. You didn’t cause that storm. You didn’t cause their deaths.” She pulled away but placed her hand back on her cheek, heart breaking when this time, Elsa flinched. She exhaled softly through her nose, a ghost of a sigh for the pain her sister had been holding onto for all these years. “Elsa, honey, it wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault. You didn’t cause any of this. You’re my sister and I love you, but I need you to look at me, so I know that you’re listening, okay?”   
Elsa nodded once again and turned her head to meet Anna’s gaze. She felt so young, suddenly, compared to her. So young and weak and scared- and there was a heaviness in her chest that she had been able to forget about for the past few weeks.   
But Anna’s eyes held only compassion, and Elsa felt it before she was aware of what had happened; felt the warmth surround her, the carpet under her knees, the arms around her shoulders as the sobs racked her body.   
  
The snow was still falling, muffling the sounds in the room but avoiding entirely the area that her and Anna occupied.   
She cried into her sister’s shoulder for what seemed like hours, to the sound of Anna repeating, over and over, that it wasn’t her fault, that she was okay, that it wasn’t her fault. That she loved her and would be here for her. That she would carry her through this storm.   
And slowly, Elsa cried herself to sleep.   
  
xXx  
  
Elsa woke gradually, as if her mind wasn’t sure where consciousness and slumber separated.  
The first thing she noticed was warmth.   
It was still such a foreign thing to her, but she instinctively burrowed into it.   
It was soft, too, but she knew it couldn’t be anything she owned. Pillows and blankets would only ever retain her cold.   
Slowly the pieces connected and she made a squeaking noise and jumped back, out of her still sleeping sister’s arms and into the chair, her head making very solid contact with the arm.   
“Elsa..?” Anna sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and propping herself up on one arm, “You’re awake? You should try and get some more rest- it’s only been around four hours since you fell asleep.”   
“Anna..”   
Her sister cocked an eyebrow, not entirely thrilled with being awake after so little sleep, and so early at that, “Let me get a fire started, and then we can talk, maybe over breakfast? And coffee?”   
Elsa nodded, as meek as she was the night before, and Anna stifled a sigh. This was going to be a long day.  
   
~   
  
Elsa waited quietly, head down and eyes distant, as Anna drank her coffee (sweet and light with a dash of cocoa), hoping beyond hope that she would pretend last night hadn’t happened.   
“Aren’t you going to have any?”   
She shook her head and Anna inhaled, patience waning. She took another sip from her cup.   
“You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”   
_That_ got a reaction, at least, and Elsa’s turquoise eyes met her own. She would’ve taken a moment of joy at being able to see them again, if she hadn’t been frustrated.   
“What do you mean, Anna?”   
“I mean, _Elsa_ , that you decided the best course of action to being stressed was drink alone in the dark while thinking yourself in circles, as opposed to finding me so we could work it out together. And now that I’m here, you’re trying to blend into the sofa.”   
If it was even possible, Elsa shrank even _further_ into the leather and this time Anna _did_ sigh.   
“Elsa, I know habits are hard to break- I mean, I still talk to the _paintings_ , for crying out loud- but please, if you think you’re spiraling, just let me help, okay?”   
The clock was still ticking, no longer covered in snow, since Elsa dispersed it while Anna freshened up, but the sound counting the seconds of a cold silence.   
  
“Why?”  
“Why what?”   
“Why are you trying to help me? What have I ever done for you to cause such compassion?”   
For the second time since she found her sister alone in the study, her heart broke, “Elsa, we’re sisters. Of course I love you. This isn’t a matter of reciprocation, although, despite what you believe there is plenty to reciprocate for- we’re family. We protect each other and help each other and when one falls, the other helps them up.”   
“I wasn’t there for you,” Elsa’s eyes were focused on the back wall and Anna turned, trying to figure out what had her attention but was snapped back into place when Elsa continued, “not when you fell. Not when you were… were alone that day, or every day after or before. Anna, I wasn’t there for you all those years and you still…” She was trying to hold back her tears, Anna could see that now.   
Both her and Elsa’s eyes turned brighter shades when crying, and Elsa’s were practically glowing.   
But Anna couldn’t move, not yet, not with how rigid Elsa had become, how her eyes, the same ones that had previously been brimming with despair, now frantically darted back and forth- panic evident in every motion, every breath.   
“Elsa, you need to calm down, okay? It’s going to be fine, I promise.”   
But she didn’t get a response, just a slow shake of her head which become more and more aggressive until it was all she was doing, shaking her head and trembling before bolting up out of her seat, pacing, ice following her every step.   
Anna stepped in front of her, hands up as if calming a startled horse, “Elsa, it’s okay, I’m here. It’s alright.”   
“No…No Anna, it’s not alright! It’s never going to be alright again, can’t you see? Look at what I’ve done! I’ve destroyed everything, I-“   
  
~  
  
  
She felt the sting before she really processed what had happened- Anna’s arm raised, tears trailing down her face.   
Had she hurt her again? She brought her hand to her own face, surprised at how warm it felt, before she fully comprehended-  
Anna had slapped her.   
She sat down, limbs suddenly heavy with a weight she hadn’t quite been aware she was holding.   
“I’m sorry. Anna, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I’m sorry…”   
“You didn’t hurt me, Elsa, but you are scaring me,” Elsa didn’t know how it was possible but she felt even worse then she had before- her sister, the one person she had spent her life trying to protect, and she was  scaring her.   
“I should- I have to go.” She stood, maybe a little too fast, because the world had started spinning, but she didn’t care, not at all, not even a little.  
She was scaring Anna and she needed to leave.   
“I have to go.”   
She was half way to the door when Anna spoke. It was so soft that she almost missed it, but it worked.  
  
She stilled.   
  
“Do you remember? We were little- I couldn’t have been more than four or five… We would sneak in here late at night and spread out a blanket and you would read to me. And Papa, he would always ask why we didn’t just play in our room if we weren’t going to sleep and you said, in this big, confident voice, that we were princesses and princesses could play in the study if they wanted to. And instead of getting angry, Papa laughed and sat down with us and read to us until we fell asleep, do you remember, Elsa? And after that, every so often, Papa would wake us up so he could read to us, since he worked so late into the night.   
“And then one night, Elsa, the study was locked- do you remember that? And you knocked but got no answer and I thought he was mad, so we went to the library and you grabbed the biggest book you could manage and stumbled through the words. You were so smart, I realize that now, because I found that book again last year and it was in French. And you were reading to me and translating it and you made it look so easy. And eventually Papa found us and he was so proud of you and I couldn’t figure out why, but I loved you so much for making him happy, because that meant he wasn’t angry.  
  
“And I realized, after everything that happened, that you never stopped being that person- you always did the really hard things to try and cheer me up- standing up to our father to play in the study or reading a book that was far too hard for you because you thought I would like it- hiding away for years and years, Elsa, to protect me. And I used to blame you, I really did, because I didn’t understand what was happening, but I do now. Elsa, have you been to our parent’s grave, yet? Have you mourned, or did you think you had no right?”   
  
Elsa was trembling again, her hand on the sofa to steady herself, her back still to Anna, not able to turn, not yet, “Because, Elsa; Papa and Mama would be so proud of you. Of both of us. They would- you kept me safe, even though this is what it did to you. You kept me safe, and you took the crown, and even though there were some bumps in the road, we worked them out. You’re the queen, Elsa, and I’m your right hand, even though I’m sort of a mess. And Elsa, I love you so much, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world, not even chocolate, so please turn around and look at me, okay? Please don’t be afraid, not of me and certainly never of you, because I know the truth of you, Elsa, and you don’t have to worry. Okay?”   
  
And Elsa nodded and started crying and Anna rushed over to her and held her and cried with her and for a little while, just a little while, the world was still.   
  
~  
  
They stood at the edge of the courtyard, Elsa’s hand timidly in her sister’s and hanging a step or so behind.   
In the distance, they could see the stones that marked their parents’ graves- just a memorial, really, as their bodies had been lost at sea.   
Anna came here at least once a month, to talk about her life and how things were going, and Elsa, after the coronation.   
But Elsa herself had admitted, when they had both calmed down, that she had not yet gone to visit them- not once in the three years they’d been gone.   
So there they stood, together in front of their parents for the first time in thirteen years.   
“You don’t have to do this today, if you don’t want to Elsa. They won’t blame you, and neither will I.”   
“..No…No, I mean, we’re…already here. The least I can do is… pay my respects.”   
Anna beamed and dragged Elsa down the hill, to the monuments that had plagued her for years.   
  
~  
  
“Hi, Mama! Papa! Look who I brought with me today!” She pulled her sister forward, placing a hand on her back to keep her from bolting, “Elsa! You would be so proud of her- she’s done so much for everyone, you know?” She pushed her just a little closer to the graves, smiling encouragingly at her when she turned back.   
Elsa took a deep breath and spoke,   
  
“H-hello… Father, Mother. I’m sorry, it’s… Well, it’s been a long time. Too long; it’s inexcusable.” She stood stiff, her hands clasped together in front of her, head high and rigid.  
“I know… I know that you did what you thought was right. And I know that I wasn’t an easy child to handle. I tried, Father, I tried to be the perfect girl, but I couldn’t ever seem to get it right. But I ascended the throne, I took the crown and I tried, I really truly did, to keep them out. I didn’t want them to know, Father, I wanted to keep them safe, to keep Anna safe, but I messed it all up.” Her hands were clenched even tighter, if that was possible, but she couldn’t keep the waiver out of her voice. The air cooled, not enough to be worrisome, but enough to let Anna know just what was going on in her sister’s head.   
  
Still, she hung back.   
  
“And if it wasn’t for Anna… I would still be on that mountain, Father, still trying to hide myself away. I didn’t understand that people aren’t mountains themselves. I didn’t understand that what I was trying to do for all those years was impossible- I just thought I was failing. Father, I love you, but I’m _so_ angry with you. Even now; even still. Because after you died, I blamed myself. I was so used to everything being my fault, Father; because I wasn’t perfect enough, because I couldn’t conceal enough. And I know that you did what you thought was best, but Father, the winter runs deep and true. It’s not a blank emptiness, it’s full of love and hurt and fear and joy, and Father, I’m just the same. It wasn’t that I was a failure, it was that the task you had given me was impossible.”   
She was crying now, again, and Anna had to bite her own tears back, trying not to run to her sister, to gather her in her arms and tell her it would be okay, because she knew that Elsa was so close to breaking through to something very important.   
So she waited. And she watched.   
“But Father, despite my anger, I forgive you, and I love you, and I wish you were here with me today- because I think…I think you’d really like who I turned into. I think that…You’d be really proud of me, Father, if you saw me today. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry for not realizing sooner that it was love that would fix me. I’m sorry that I was so oblivious as to what was happening to myself. I’m sorry that I stole the best years of your lives, and Anna’s, because of a mistake; a slipped foot, a misplaced blast. I’m sorry that we had to live all those years in fear and isolation and misery, because of me. And I forgive you for all of it.  
  
“And Mother, I…I know that I caused you grief- I know that you couldn’t bear to not have me in your arms, to not be able to stroke my cheek or dry my tears- I could see it, in every bone and every line, and Mother, I’m sorry for pushing you away, but I loved you so much that I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. I didn’t understand that if I had allowed you to love me, it would have been fine. I didn’t understand, Mother, because I was eight, and scared and alone. But you did, I know you did, because I could see it in your face, Mother, every time you thought I wasn’t looking. I’m sorry for taking me away from you. I’m sorry for forcing you to suffer through watching your daughter estrange herself from everyone. I’m sorry you never got to see Anna and I reunited. I’m sorry, Mother, for not being your daughter. I’m sorry for causing you sadness.”   
  
And this time, Anna _did_ come to her, _did_ wrap her arms around her, because in this moment Elsa was suffering and there was no reason for her to do so. So she took her in her arms and kissed her head and let her sob, for the third time in less than a day, and hoped beyond hope that she would never have to cry again.   
Because her sister, so strong and composed, had cried enough for a lifetime and every additional tear was one more she shouldn’t have to bear.   
  
~  
  
“You’re right, Anna, this cocoa _does_ have a richer flavor.”   
“Doesn’t it, though?? Rapunzel sent it over from Corona- she said she almost only uses this blend.”   
“We should send her some krumkakes, if you think they’ll keep. Or perhaps the recipe and a griddle? She had mentioned she liked to cook, yes?”   
“Oh she loves to, although I don’t know how good she is at is. Maybe we should send her a cloak, instead?”   
“That could work; I’ll let you sort out the details, I’ve never been very good at these kinds of things.”    
Anna laughed a little and Elsa cocked her head to the side, confused, “You have a little…” she pointed to her lip and Elsa blushed and grabbed a napkin, dabbing at the whipped cream she had accidently made a moustache of, “Better?”   
“Yes, you got it.”   
They sat in a comfortable silence before Anna interrupted it with, “We should do this more often.”   
“I agree, it’s a nice way to unwind. If I’d had more common sense, I’d have had chocolate instead of scotch.”   
“Elsa, there’s never a reason to _not_ have chocolate.”   
“That’s true, what was I thinking?”   
Anna smirked and shook her head, before sticking her finger in cup and dabbing some more whipped cream onto her sister’s nose, “You weren’t, dummy.”   
“A-Anna! Please, I just got it off!” Elsa was looking cross-eyed down her nose and Anna laughed uproariously at her,   
“Oh, God, your face!”   
Elsa scowled and wiped her nose, a sly smirk sneaking onto her face.   
Anna suddenly found herself with the same confection making a mostly straight line across her cheek,   
“Hey!”   
“Don’t move or you’ll mess up your war paint!”   
“Elsssaaa!”   
“Oh, stop whining, you’re an adult now, aren’t you?”   
“What about you! You’re painting on my face with whipped cream!”   
“And you were the very model of maturity and grace before, no?”  
Anna glowered at her and Elsa laughed, her hand pulled up to hide her mouth but her eyes shining, “Fine, I’ll stop.”   
Anna snatched the napkin from her sister’s lap and wiped at her face, grimacing, “Elsa! It’s sticky! This isn’t nice!”   
“I’m just reciprocating, little sister. No need to get angry with me.”   
“This isn’t reciprocation, it’s retaliation!”  
“Oh are _you_ going to argue semantics with _me_?”   
Silence, for once, on Anna’s end and Elsa smiled a little, gentler than before, and handed Anna a glass of water, “Here. This might help.”   
Anna grumbled good-naturedly and took the glass, dipping the corner of her napkin into the liquid and dabbing at her face.   
Despite all their problems before, it was moments like this that made it worth it.


End file.
